


go ahead, cake my day

by auxanges



Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Crochet, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/pseuds/auxanges
Summary: "Did you catwalk?" Bro is surrounded by cakes and skeins of varying shades. It looks like a fibre store threw up on him. You want to run every single one between your fingers; it's comforting to know he'll probably let you."What am I, an amateur? Of course I catwalked."
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dave Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Rose Lalonde, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Rose Lalonde/Dave Strider, Rose Lalonde/Dave Strider
Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602049
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Polyswap Winter Promptfest - Dawn Edition





	go ahead, cake my day

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Sartorially](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sartorially/pseuds/Sartorially) in the [Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Rose and Bro bond over their inclinations towards the crafted arts. Dave is their model for the latest in crochet fashion. He's exceptionally cozy.
> 
> interactive prompt, visual learners enjoy

Dave answers the door in honey-coloured booty shorts. Your eyes gravitate there so fast they cross, and it's frankly impressive you even managed to process the colour beyond the sad pastiness of his thighs. 

Your mouth must be open, because Dave says, "Whatever comment you're cookin' up in that fair-haired noggin will be your only one, so please, for the love of God, don't disappoint me and make it a doozy."

But he hugs you anyway, and murmurs merry christmases and happy womb evictions into your hair, and his hand-me-down shirt smells like the good kind of laundry detergent. The Striders really know how to make you feel welcome.

* * *

"They fit fine, Bro," calls Dave as he ushers you in. "Can I switch back now?"

"Did you catwalk?" Bro is surrounded by cakes and skeins of varying shades. It looks like a fibre store threw up on him. You want to run every single one between your fingers; it's comforting to know he'll probably let you. 

"What am I, an amateur? Of course I catwalked." Dave shoos you towards the couch, and dips behind it to throw on jeans. 

You sit cross-legged opposite Bro: if legs for days is a concrete unit of measurement, the elder Strider has monopolized a healthy calendar month or two. There's a half-finished project in his lap. "What are you making now? I didn't realize how big it looked off-camera." 

Dave snickers. Bro air-high-fives you. "[Cardigan](https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/lorelei-cardigan). The one you saw is done, actually, Dave's got it. This one's for you."

"For me?" You actually blink at that. You're usually the crafter, not the craftee. "I mean. Are you quite certain?" 

"I'm quite certain," he confirms, with only a slight tease in his tenor. He tosses you [a dark skein](https://katsriversidestudio.com/collections/colours/products/bewitched). "It's similar to this, only, like...darker." 

Another snicker from the back of the couch. Dave has donned his own cardigan ([in a significantly redder hue](https://katsriversidestudio.com/collections/colours/products/hotbricks)) and pillowed his head on his forearms to watch.

You stick your tongue out at him. "I'm sure I'll love it," you promise Bro. 

That must satisfy him; he leans back to let the couch swallow him up. "Let's see your projects, then. I know you have at least four."

"Only three," you confess. "I finished some legwarmers on the last flight over."

"Fuck yes. The cabled ones?" 

"[Obviously the cabled ones](https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/cabled-legwarmers-9)." You fish them from your bag, a little smug.

Dave leans forward to look, which does nothing for your smugness levels and everything for your self-esteem. "They look sweet, Rose." 

"You're welcome to try them on. They have yet to be modelled."

"Will they fit my unreal calves?" 

"Your calves very much remain on this plane of existence, so I'll take those odds." You produce a couple hooks, making faces down at your yarn as you decide what to work on next.

Dave is abruptly by your side--either he vaulted over the combination couch and brother, or just got better at rounding corners. "Actually, now that you're here, I can give both of you your presents.

You and Bro begin tandem protests that involve several hand motions and furrowed brows; Dave makes tutting noises like an overenthusiastic parent until you begrudgingly stop, then tosses you both misshapen bundles. 

"You're a bad wrapper, aren't you?" you ask with a smile. 

"I'm a great rapper. You're subscribed to my Soundcloud." 

"Har har." 

Bro tears into the paper with his teeth like a proper weirdo. You prod at the opening nearest the tape before giving in and ripping a little more willy-nilly. You truly become a wild child over the holidays. 

"Holy shit, Dave." That's Bro, lifting his glasses into his hair to peer closely at the twin skeins that fall into his lap. 

"Yeah, yeah, spoiler." Dave sits on your armrest, looking equal parts pleased and uncertain, as if he could ever disappoint you. 

You reveal your own skeins, and promptly forget everything else. 

They're custom-dyed. They have to be--between you and Bro, you're subscribed to pretty much every colour update out there, and you've never seen anything like this. The body is a deep, deep, deep blue, pulled from the bottom of the sea; it's interspersed with sunspots of vivid gold and purple. You give it a few good squishes, just feeling its weight in your hands. 

Dave's chin hits your shoulder. "Vibe status."

"Off the charts," you murmur quietly. "Dave, this is...this is beautiful." 

"Oh, thank Christ." He laughs, flashing his brother a thumbs-up. When you finally wrench your gaze away from your present, you see that Bro's gift is in [his favourite eyesore shade](https://www.trickedoutewe.com/product/neon-orange/222?cp=true&sa=true&sbp=false&q=false). You can already picture, with familiar ease, the top he'll likely make with it. 

(Also familiar is the way Bro relaxes when he works. Once he grew tired of pretending he only got into crochet for the hookup jokes, you quickly grew accustomed to the dips in the lines of his face and arms where he holds his tension. And the Striders, for all their smooth talking, are a very tense breed.)

"My only rule is that I get to try on whatever you make," Dave concludes. For a brief moment you worry that you had zoned out, but he really does look like he was simply enjoying watching the two of you ogle over soft shit. 

This apartment is positively rife with it. 

Bro says, "That's why we have your measurements memorized, dude," and launches himself at your couch. 

You were absolutely correct about the soft shit, and even more pleased that it had no chance of all fitting in that terrible wrapping. 


End file.
